


The Girl With Thestral Wings

by deslea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fic, Magical Creatures, Thestrals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deslea/pseuds/deslea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Challenge fic for the prompt <i>Something that takes place during the DH timeline where Luna is sweet and all-knowing and Severus needs some of her "advice"</i> (rarepair_shorts on LiveJournal). Severus prepares to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Girl With Thestral Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [articcat621](https://archiveofourown.org/users/articcat621/gifts).



He was ready to die.

Severus thought this as he sat on the daybed by the window above the Headmaster's study, looking out across the bridge towards the Forbidden Forest. Already, the wards were visible, forming intricate webs of light over the school. Keeping the Dark Lord out, and unwittingly, him inside. Granting him a time of peace before the end.

No one had thought to look for him here, though it was the most obvious place. In fact, he had seen no sign that anyone was looking for him at all. He had been revealed as Dumbledore's killer, and not one person had tried to track him down and exact revenge. It appeared that by this night's standards, he was only a little fish in a much bigger pond. If he had needed proof that the world was going to hell tonight, there it was.

But it was not quite true that no one was looking for him.

"I know you're in here," a high, lilting voice declared, as light footsteps made themselves known on the tiles of the study floor below. "I'm coming up."

He didn't ask how she got past the gargoyle. _Dumbledore_ wasn't really the strongest password, and anyway, Luna _knew_ things sometimes.

He sighed. He really didn't want to hurt Luna, of all people. She was one of very few students who he believed had been _born_ good, rather than conditioned into it. 

"Miss Lovegood, leave or I will have to kill you," he said, but without conviction. He twitched his wand apathetically in the direction of the stairs as she climbed them.

"Yes, I've seen how dedicated you are against us in battle." Luna's mouth twitched with what might have been amusement as she reached the upper level. "The Carrows send their regards."

He blinked. "Miss Lovegood, are you _joking_ with me?" He didn't think he had heard her joke. Ever.

"Yes, I believe I am." She walked up to him and stood in his space, right at his side. She looked down at him with a curious look that seemed almost…tender.

He had to crane his neck to see her face. In the dim light, she looked older than her years. "Why are you here?"

"Because you needed me to come," she said. Her fingers stroked back his hair, more gently than he could ever remember anyone touching him. He stared up at her fingertips in bewilderment. "Because you're tired, but your work is not yet done."

"What do you know of my work? Who have you told?" he demanded, but without much vigour. Talking to her like this was like being hypnotised. Like he was drowning in her.

"Everything, and nothing. I've told no one. It isn't for me to change the outcome." Her hand sank down into his hair, cradling his cheek, tender as a mother, or a lover. "My only part in it is to be what you need."

He swallowed hard at the images that rose in his mind at that, images of sinking into arms and into warmth. He had been starved of warmth for far too long. "You are a young girl, I am a damaged man, and no one knows you're here. That's a very dangerous offer to make. You need to leave, Miss Lovegood. Now."

"You won't hurt me," she murmured. "You couldn't if you wanted to. And you don't want to." She dropped down to her knees before him and took his hands, dangling limply between his knees. They were cold. She stroked them, warming them.

"What are you?" he wondered. "You're not a girl. Or not just a girl."

A smile curled around her lips as she looked up from his hands to meet his gaze. "What do you think I am?"

The thing with Luna was that even the strangest questions seemed natural. He thought about it. Her gentleness. Her ease with the darkness, while being completely devoid of darkness herself. "A thestral," he said after a moment's pause.

"I don't know what I am," she said thoughtfully, twining her fingers with his. "I'm closer to a thestral than a girl. But that's because we're in a war, and wars need the hearts of thestrals more than the hearts of girls."

"You're some sort of chameleon, then," he hazarded. "Your kind, whatever it is - its nature is to be whatever is needed."

"I suppose I am. But it isn't important for either of us to know. It is only important for you to let me keep watch with you, until you're strong again." She leaned in as though to kiss him, and paused, her breath melding with his. "So let me."

"Luna," he protested softly, though he didn't pull away, "whatever else you are, you are also a girl. Barely of age, and more innocent than anyone I've ever met." He looked down at her lips, slightly parted, breathing life and warmth into his own. "You've already given me something I needed. You don't need to do more than that."

"I do," she whispered, climbing onto him, straddling him. Not like a girl. Like a wife, comforting weight and stillness. "You need to be loved." She wrapped her arms around him and bent her lips to his brow. "Let me."

"I can't let you do that for me," he murmured, but his eyes fell closed in gratitude as her tenderness fell over him like a shroud. "I couldn't live with myself in the light of day."

"Severus," she said, "you will never see the light of another day." She took his face between her hands and tilted it, and this time, she did kiss him, feather-light and gentle, like thestral's wings fluttering against his lips. "Let me."

That brought his resolve undone, and he let her. He sank into her and rested in her, slow and tender, until he was strong once more.

END


End file.
